


The Garreg Mach Halloween Spectacular of 1180

by Isa1187



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Halloween, Murder Mystery Game, schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 00:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isa1187/pseuds/Isa1187
Summary: Lysithea really hated Halloween.Or: the year Garreg Mach Monastery permanently banned Halloween parties.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	The Garreg Mach Halloween Spectacular of 1180

The monastery bells chimed the start of class. Lysithea’s frustrated groan filled the library as she tucked a writing quill and two spares into her pockets, grabbed a heavy armful of books with essay scrolls squashed between them that was much more than she was comfortably able to carry by herself, and precariously balanced several sweet breakfast rolls on top of the whole mess. 

She was late for class, for one of the few times ever. The knowledge that the professor would forgive her didn’t help much with her frantic guilt, and only the thought of Claude’s laughter if he somehow saw her trip and dump her comically-large pile of academic supplies kept her from leaving the library at a sprint. 

Lysithea muttered to herself as she walked. It was a habit she’d never managed to break, after spending so much time at House Ordelia with no one her own age to talk to.

“This isn’t even my fault,” she grumbled as she gingerly felt her way down to the first floor, glaring at the gaudy decorations that came into view as she entered the entrance hall. “I wouldn’t have been so distracted if those others weren’t busy planning their Halloween party. Honestly, how did they convince Seteth to let them hold such an event?” Evidence of that evening's party had been scattered all over the monastery for three whole days now, and it was only getting worse.

The decorations continued even out into the courtyards. Plush spiders clung to cobwebs stretched between rooftops, ghostly silhouettes loomed in the shadows, carved faces sat obscured and ready to be lit up with candles. As soon as night fell every room of the monastery would be full of jeering, flickering grins. She dreaded it.

“It’s barbaric! What a waste of time and effort. I can’t believe anyone would devote any effort to something as frivolous as this!” Lysithea looked up at a particularly precarious scarecrow leaning out from a window far above her and hoped, despite her words, that someone had spent a great deal of effort securing it.

“And how can any of them focus while they’re working on something like that? Ghosts, monsters, eyeballs in the food, punch that looks like blood, ugh!” The Halloween mania swept the monastery indiscriminately. Even the unlikeliest students joined in over the last few days. Bernadetta left her room long enough to contribute several truly terrifying carnivorous plant plushies that lurked in the shadows of the dormitory halls. Leonie spent an afternoon demonstrating the finer points of making the spookiest possible cornhusk dolls. She even caught Hubert leading a group in the art of looming menacingly.

The door to the Golden Deer classroom was finally in sight, entire minutes after the beginning-of-class bell rang. Lysithea paused to adjust her unwieldy pile of things into something a bit more organised. She’s going to be later than she ever has been anyway, so she might at least look like she didn’t just madly dash all the way from the library. 

“Did you fall asleep in the library?” A particularly annoying voice asked behind her. Lysithea barely managed to keep her pile of books from toppling over. Claude always chose the worst possible moment to speak up.

“I don’t see why that would be any of your business,” Lysithea said with as much self-possession as a very late student who just nearly fell over from surprise could muster.

“You don’t? But I thought I was your big brother figure!” Claude said in mock hurt. “And the professor asked me to go look for you. I’m doing you a favor, honestly. I couldn’t leave you wandering around alone with all this spoooooky stuff around the monastery.” 

“I do not, and never will, need _ you _r help navigating the monastery, regardless of any ‘spooky stuff’.” Lysithea held her head high and walked the final few paces to the door. “And you may stop following me at any time.”

“This is my class too, you realize,” Claude said dryly. “So, Lysithea,” he said with perfect innocence as they both stepped into the classroom, “you’re going to the party, right?” His voice was loud enough that everyone heard it. 

“Of course not. As if I would spend my time on such frivolous pursuits when I could be improving my abilities. I’d think that our great class leader would understand the need to study, after all,” Lysithea retorted, a little meanly. 

Calude shrugged as if he didn’t care at all whether Lysithea attended. Which was, she was sure, just part of whatever scheme he was working on. She wasn’t planning to fall for it. 

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to spend the evening studying by yourself. Clearly I can’t convince you,” Claude said with a mournful shake of his head. “I hope the ghouls aren’t too active away from the party.”

“What are you talking about?” Lysithea said with the utmost scorn. “Even a fool like you should know ghouls aren’t real.” 

“Oh, not real ghouls,” Claude said easily. “But I think we’ve made some pretty impressive fake monsters. Who knows, one or two might escape. Mercedes is really the one in charge of them, but she can’t be everywhere.” He winked. “But you’ll be perfectly fine alllll by yourself, in that dark, scary library, right?”

Lysithea declined to respond, and did her best to hide her shiver. “I apologize for my lateness, Professor,” she said as she sat down at her desk. “It won’t happen again.” 

Ghouls, huh? What was Claude playing at? It was clearly some ruse to get her to attend the party, but why was he so concerned about getting _ her _ to attend? She’d best ignore it. 

Five hours later, after endless wheedling from Claude and HIlda, and puppy eyes from Ignatz, and even a pointed remark from the professor, Lysithea found herself reluctantly walking into a Halloween party. 

From the first step into the transformed dining hall Lyisthea knew it was an awful idea. An awful, terrible, no-good very bad idea. Lysithea was never a big fan of crowds, or parties, or large groups of people in the process of getting extremely drunk. She was not a fan of the spooky and supernatural. 

Mercedes glided through the crowd clad as an angel, serene as ever. Sylvain wore a pair of tiny cat-ears over his normal clothes and tried to sneakily put a second pair on Felix’s head. One of the corners held a person-sized pitcher plant that must hide Bernadetta. Dorothea was dressed as some opera character as she animatedly explains all of Fodlan’s Halloween traditions to Petra. Linhardt leaned against a wall near the kitchens as Caspar wandered the hall, both in matching dragon onesies. Everyone in the monastery was here, apparently, all delighted to be celebrating Halloween.

And, Lysithea discovered all at once, she most definitely was not a fan of rowdy groups of people who were all doing their very best to dress up like the spookiest monsters imaginable. Even worse was the low, flickering candlelight that barely illuminated anything and threw dancing shadows onto every surface. The walls were still hung with ghosts and ghouls and grimacing faces that were in shadows that seemed to jump out from the corner of her vision. She nearly left, nearly walked out and tossed her witches hat in the pool and curled up in her room with a pile of books.

But she’d already been _ seen _ by people. Leaving now would be admitting that Halloween is too scary for her. And it was! But that didn’t mean she wanted _ other people _to know that.

“Welcome, welcome!” Claude said, stepping out of the crowd as though he’d been waiting for Lysithea specifically. And that clinches it - there’s no way she can leave after Claude, the smuggest, slipperiest, most obnoxious student in the entire academy, had seen her. “Gotta say, I’m impressed that you showed up, Lysithea. I really thought this might be too scary for you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m hardly a child who’s scared of the dark.”

Claude grinned disarmingly. “Oh, I know! And you even wore a spooky outfit!” He gestures to Lysithea’s dead-standard witches costume. She’d been rushed. 

“I wouldn’t dream of attending a party without meeting the dress code,” Lysithea said. “You look like _ you _had a few problems with that. I wouldn’t call your outfit proper Halloween attire.” Claude’s costume was a deer, of course, only scary in that it’s so ridiculous. He was wearing a dappled brown onesie, ridiculous antlers, and his hands were covered by creepy little black hooves. 

“My costume is the most fitting thing that any proud Golden Deer student could wear.” 

“You wish that were true.” Lysithea turned away to look toward the crowds. “Are there any sweets at this party?” 

“I would never dream of throwing a party without a proper amount of sweets! They’re all over on the other side of the dining hall. The really good cookies ran out already, but I saved a plate for you in the storage cupboard.” He winked conspiratorially. 

Perhaps Claude was only the second or third worst student at the academy, Lyisthea thought as she scoped out the snack table - where, indeed, a plate labelled “chocolate spider shortbread” is already empty. She headed toward the roomy supply cupboard instead, elbowing people out of her way. Lysithea could almost taste sweet, wonderful chocolatey goodness. But the door wouldn’t open! She tugged on it stubbornly, and then flung her full weight against it. 

It opened, finally, and she stepped forward expectantly to look for the cookies of her dreams. 

The next few moments happened in apparent slow-motion. 

Somewhere behind her Mercedes said “oh dear” softly as the door opened.

Claude snickered as something inside, much larger than a plate of cookies, shifted.

“Is that -” Ashe gasped as the shape entered the light.

“No way,” Sylvain said, as it collapsed onto the floor. 

And a scream ripped its way out of Lysithea’s throat as Annette’s blood-splattered body collapsed at her feet. 

She was still screaming when Mercedes rested a calming hand on her shoulder. “Lysithea, dear,” she said, too softly for the rest of the crowd to hear, “I’m very sorry. I intended for one of the older students to find the body, but I should have guessed that Claude had something like this in mind.” 

The words slowly trickled into Lysithea’s brain. She stopped screaming. “Wait, what?” It took a moment to process it all, Mercedes apologetic smile, the too-bright color of the blood, and the breathing of the “corpse”. Not just breathing, the “corpse” of Annette was _ laughing _. 

“I’m going to murder Claude,” she said to Mercedes.

Mercedes just nodded encouragingly and turned to the rest of the students, who were still frozen where they stood, staring directly at Lysithea. “Well, it seems that tonight’s game has begun! As you can see, someone has cruelly murdered our beloved classmate Annette. It’s up to all of you to find and capture her killer!” On the floor Annette completely failed to suppress her giggles. 

“You’ll find clues in the crime scene. The winner gets a prize. Good luck, everyone!” 

Lysithea lunged into the cupboard before Mercedes finished her first sentence and cast a Mire to slow them down, not strong enough to hurt anyone, just enough to ensure she got first crack at the clues. Becaue Claude may have humiliated her, but she’s going to win this _ fucking game _ just so he doesn’t. There were objects scattered around: sheets of paper, shards of stained glass with the edges smoothed out. Lysithea grabbed up as many as she can and shovelled them into the ample pockets of her cloak, dashed out of the room, lunged through the crowd, and dragged the first two people she saw not scrambling into the courtyard. The remains of the Mire would slow them down a bit, with any luck. 

She knew she’d made a bad choice as soon as she left the dining hall and realized just _ who _ she’d grabbed. 

Linhardt, trudging along in his dragon onesie, sighed at her. “You know, I was planning to stay out of this whole mystery nonsense.” 

Lysithea glared, and then turned to glare at the second person she’d grabbed before he can even say anything. “Ugh, it figures it would be you,” she said, scowling at Felix. Sylvain must finally have gotten him to wear the cat ears, because they sit a little crooked on his head. 

“Right,” Felix said. “I’m leaving.” 

Lysithea grabbed his arm again. “Oh no you don’t, you’re both going to help me.” She’s met with intensely skeptical noises. “You _ saw _ how Claude humiliated me,” she said. “He thinks I’m scared of everything! I’m going to win this and prove that I’m not _ scared _ of _ Halloween _.” 

“Be that as it may, I still fail to see how that has anything to do with me,” Linhardt said. 

“It has to do with you because I will Dark Spikes you into the next century if you don’t help!” 

“Fine,” Felix said, surrendering surprisingly quickly. “But this better be quick.” 

Lysithea was already jogging away as she started to speak. “Come on!” she said. Felix and Linhardt grudgingly followed. “I took most of the clues and left a Mire at the entrance to the cupboard, so hopefully the others will have some difficulty following them. I found stained glass and pages of sheet music - it must be pointing to the cathedral.” 

“That’s obvious. It seems too simple,” Felix said. 

“The punch was spiked with something very strong,” Linhardt said. “I imagine most of the students are drunk enough that even the very simple begins to seem difficult.” 

Lysithea quickened her pace as they crossed the bridge to the cathedral. Far behind them she heard the first few other searchers spilling out into the grounds and heading in their direction. She broke into a run until even Linhardt, with his absurdly long legs, had to jog to keep up, grumbling all the while. 

“This is,” Linhardt panted as they entered the lofty halls of the cathedral, “far more work than I signed up for. I feel a little faint.” 

Felix scoffed. 

“You can pass out later. Help me look for anything out of place,” Lysithea snapped. She headed to the huge stained glass window. Felix walked toward the pews where choir practice takes place. Linhardt trudged reluctantly in, looking around attentively without hurrying to anywhere in particular. 

It’s in the little alcove with the saint statues that she finally found a pool of blood. Fake blood. Fake, fake, absolutely not-at-all real blood, and when she yelled “over here!” It’s definitely because she wanted an opinion on what it all meant and not because she’s a little bit scared. 

“What do you think? Is that where Anette was murdered?” Lysithea asked Felix and Linhardt, casting a magelight to take a better look at the area. 

“There’s not enough blood,” Felix said critically. “If this were a real murder I’d say that Annette was assaulted here and then moved somewhere else before she bled out.” 

Lysithea stared, torn between impressed and aghast. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Felix hissed. “Do you want my help or not?”

Linhardt wrinkled his nose as he examines the floor. He gingerly picked up a thin journal that lies discarded on the floor, careful not to touch any of the bloodstains. He hmmed thoughtfully as he flipped through it. 

“There are several very interesting diagrams in this. I recognize some of them as related to real spells, so I can only assume that there’s some fabricated diagram in here that’s the true clue,” Linhardt said slowly. 

“Well? Hurry up and find it!” 

Linhardt was quiet for excruciatingly long minutes. Then, “I don’t believe that any of these diagrams are clues. However…” he held up an owl feather that had been used as a bookmark halfway through the journal. “This may be. There was also a doodle of those candlesticks they use in some of the more out-of-the-way parts of the monastery. We’re being pointed toward a corridor in the vicinity of the Owlery.” 

“I suppose that seems logical,” Lysithea said. “Thanks, Linhardt.”

“Walking all that way seems like such a bother,” Linhardt said. “Why don’t we warp over toward the right building?” 

“Do all mages use their magic so frivolously?” Felix muttered. Lyisthea had almost forgotten he was there. 

“I hardly care,” Linhardt said. “Are you coming or not?” 

Felix straightened from where he’s been leaning against the wall and stepped into range of Linhardt’s offered spell. There’s the usual flash of light and feeling of emptiness, and then they’re standing on the grass near one of the monastery’s storage buildings

“Well, there’s no time to waste,” Lysithea said imperiously and strode toward the building. Felix and Linhardt followed. 

The third floor housed the owlery. They climbed up and wandered aimlessly, looking for anything out of place, trying to not to jump at the soft calls of the birds. Felix kicked down a few doors even though it’s completely unnecessary. Linhardt stared into the shadows disinterestedly. Lysithea tried to appear as if she is absolutely not afraid of the dark. 

And, oddly, even though it was Halloween and she was dragged into some sort of ridiculous murder game, she wasn’t as afraid as usual. She wouldn’t call either of her companions pleasant, but Linhardt’s tired pragmatism and Felix’s restless impatience combined into something entirely grounding. 

Perhaps, Lysithea thought, she should mingle with the other houses more often. 

They were exploring the southeast quadrant of the building - and Lysithea was getting better at not jumping at every shadow - when they heard a soft, pained, moaning sound from one of the closed supply rooms. 

Lysithea walked up to the door carefully, quietly on the pads of her feet, and went to open it. But then she _ can’t _. She can’t bring herself to purposely walk into a room holding what’s probably - definitely! - just a prank, but that her subconscious is determined must be an actual ghost.

“Well?” Linhardt said, stifling a yawn. “This seems likely to be the place. Aren’t you going to open the door?” 

“Why should I be the one to do everything?” Lysithea said, retreating back into defensiveness. “Felix, you make yourself useful for once.” 

“You’re really that afraid of a fake ghost.” But Felix stepped up to the door anyway, resting his hand on the sword he’d brought even to a Halloween party, and slammed the door open all at once. 

There’s a startled little shriek from inside. Lysithea peered hesitantly over Felix’s shoulders, getting ready to bolt if there’s even a hint of genuine supernatural activity. But it’s just an Annette-shaped lump hiding under a sheet with actual eyeholes cut into it, glaring at where Felix was still standing with one hand on his sword hilt. 

“I believe you frightened the ghost. Congratulations.” Linhardt said. 

Felix looked completely unrepentant. “Great. We found the ghost. What are we supposed to do with it?” 

“The door was unlocked, you could have just snuck in quietly and listened,” Annette said, breaking what little acting she’d been doing. 

“Right. Well, Lyisthea is threatening to murder us if she doesn’t win this thing, so could you hurry up and do whatever it is this is?” Felix gestures disparagingly at the half-hearted ghost costume and then at the wider world around them. It would have been more convincing if he wasn’t still wearing the little cat ears Sylvain forced on him back at the party.

Lysithea elbowed him. “Be polite. We can’t win if the ghost refuses to talk to us.” 

“Excuse us, dreadful specter,” she continued, unsure of how to properly address a ghost. “Would you mind answering some questions?” 

“I would very much mind!” Annette waved her arms around under the ghost costume. The clumsily cut-out eyeholes slipped. “I have a whole speech about my horrible, grisly, untimely death, and you keep interrupting!” 

“In that case, we would be deeply grateful if you would resume your speech,” Lysithea said. “Shut up, Felix,” she added for good measure. 

Annette took a moment to adjust the sheet, pulling the eyeholes back over her eyes. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “It’s weird now that you’re all just staring at me.” 

Lysithea, Linhardt, and Felix continue to just stare at her. 

“Ooooooooo,” Annette says, replicating the drawn-out, pained moan they heard earlier. “I am the ghooooosttt of Annettttteee, killed tragicalllly before my time, and I will haunt these halls for eternity!” She waved her arms around in what she probably considered an eldritch fashion. 

“I will forever relive my murder here on the stones of this dreadful hall!” Apparently she was too excited to remember to sound spooky. 

“Forever reliving my deaaaathhhhh, the paaaiinnnn, ambushed in the cathedral, and then muuurrrrddeeerrreeeed!” 

Lysithea waited as patiently as she could. She lasted through about ten seconds of dramatic silence before breaking. “Yes, but what killed you? How were you murdered?” 

“You really couldn’t wait for half a minute? I rehearsed this!” Lysithea’s pretty sure she heard Felix snicker. “Fine, I was strangled with a fishing line, okay? Are you satisfied now?” The little ghost was clearly livid. 

“I thought your performance was quite good. It’s very impressive how you maintained any composure after all of Lysithea’s interruptions,” Linhardt says. Lysithea very nearly stomped on his foot before reminding herself that she was a calm, reasonable adult. 

The ghosts little “hmph” sound didn’t seem very mollified, but Annette resumed her dramatic moaning and pointedly ignored them. 

“I hear footsteps,” Felix said. “The others must be on our tail, but they’ll probably search the rooms closer to the owlery first.” 

“Well, we still need a destination! Quick, who would kill someone with fishing line?” 

There’s a beat as they all stare at each other. Then, in unison: “The professor!” The ghost behind them paused in her resumed monologue, but Lysithea writes it off as annoyance. 

“The professor was down by the fishing pond this evening,” Linhardt said. “I saw her catch a very impressive carp before Caspar dragged me in to the party.” 

“She’s supposed to be chaperoning everyone,” Felix said. “Seteth is going to kill her.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” Lysithea called back from where she’s already halfway out of the room. “We need to hurry!”

And there was, again, the reluctant shuffling sounds of Felix and Linhardt following her. She sprinted back through the building, nearly colliding with Claude at the entrance. 

“Awwww, did a ghost scare you off?” Claude yelled after her. It wasn’t even a good taunt, and she’s much too occupied with hurrying onwards to retort. She’ll win, and then he’ll be sorry. 

The three of them arrived at the pond all together, piling up just around the corner by the dormitories, where anyone hypothetically sitting on the docks wouldn’t be able to see them. 

Lysithea was the first to lean forward and peak her head carefully around the wall, getting a clear line of sight. And there was the professor, sitting comfortably on the docks, barely even fishing, just staring contemplatively out at the water with the fishing rod carelessly propped up beside her. 

Sounds of raucous partying spill down from the dining room and entrance hall. Byleth must have heard them loud and clear as well, but she didn’t seem inclined to do anything about it, even when the laughter broke into screams for a moment. Lysithea held back a shudder - who knows what creepy pranks the people still there are doing?

There’s a shuffling noise as Felix startled behind her. 

“What?” She whispered back, quietly as possible. 

“I thought I saw -” but he cuts himself off before he gets around to saying what he thought he saw. “It’s probably nothing.” 

“This is all great,” Linhardt said, not sounding at all like anything was great, “but what is our plan here? Did Mercedes say we had to solve the murder, or actually catch the perpetrator?” 

“The introductory speech said to find and capture the killer,” Felix said. “There’s little chance of that. The three of us can’t match the professor.” 

“Perhaps if I tell the professor our conclusions she’ll come along of her own accord?” Lysithea said hopefully. 

“It seems doubtful, but if our options are attacking her or trying to convince her, we probably have a better shot at the latter,” Linhardt said. 

“No. We can ambush her if we move now. Talking to her means giving up the element of surprise,” Felix said. 

“But what are the chances you could really get close enough without her noticing? We’d never make it,” Lysithea said. 

Felix shrugged. “You could warp us in.” 

Lysithea considers. It wasn’t a terrible plan, although for it to work they’d have to come out of the warp quite precisely or risk falling into the lake. She peeked out at the dock again, trying to evaluate whether it’s worth attempting. 

But Byleth was standing up and putting down her fishing rod, looking around with the puzzled air of someone who’s heard distant voices that shouldn’t be there. 

“Run!” Lysithea gasps out. “She heard us. She’s coming over here!” 

“No! This is our best chance. She probably doesn’t know how many of us there are, we can still ambush her!” 

Linhardt groaned. “You know, I think I’ll bow out of this battle and do some fishing myself.” 

“Traitor!” Lysithea grabbed at Linhardt and was about to give him a much larger piece of her mind when a soft footstep sounded behind her. 

“P-professor!” She said, hastily letting go of the handful of Linhardts onesie she’d grabbed.

“Lysithea,” the professor said, unreadable as always. The witch’s outfit, dragon onesie, and cat ears apparently weren’t enough to surprise the professor at all. “Linhardt, Felix. Shouldn’t you be at the party?” 

“Uhhhh…” Lysithea said. 

“We know it was you,” Felix said, subtle as a knife to the throat. “Give it up.” 

Byleth just blinked at them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Please, stop playing dumb, professor. It’s disconcerting,” Linhardt said. “Annette’s ghost. Mercedes’s game. Clearly you are the culprit, and I’d be most grateful if you’d come quietly back to the party with us and save me the effort of _ capturing _ you, whatever that’s supposed to mean.” 

The professor’s bewilderment didn’t seem to clear up at all. 

“Oh, come _ on _,” Lyisthea snapped, ever-thin patience breaking once again. “You were supposed to chaperone this party! Do you not know anything that’s going on?” 

Byleth was saved from answering by a polite little _ ahem _.

“Excuse me,” said a soft, overly-polite voice. “But I believe you have made a small error in your reasoning. Or should I say that you fell for my clever misdirection? I had hoped that the association with fishing would point you toward the professor.” 

There was a moment of silence. And then, “I _ knew _ I saw you,” Felix muttered, and “ _ Flayn _?” Linhardt said in surprise. 

“Indeed! You see, it was I who committed the foul deed. How could I stand by as the professor was given all of the credit for my dreadful crime?” 

Flayn kept her usual sweet smile and precise tone as she said it. Lysithea couldn’t decide if that made it more or less convincing. 

“And now!” Flayn said, slightly too enthusiastic for a professed murderer. Or maybe just enthusiastic enough? “I believe you were planning to bring me to justice.” 

Lysithea’s deeply unconvinced. Linhardt shrugs and prepared to cast a spell. Felix draws his actual sword that he brought to an actual party. 

“...what is going on?” Byleth said, bewildered, as if she’s trying to decide whether this is something worth stopping. 

“But just one moment before you commence your attack.” Flayn rummaged through the spacious pockets of her floofy skirt and pulled out several swords made of a soft, spongy material. 

“Given that my dear brother would panic if anything wounded me, to win the game you must defeat me using these swords only,” Flayn told them. 

Lysithea was hesitant to accept rules from Flayn, who after all seemed to be the villain of the story. On the other hand, Seteth wold definitely murder them if Flayn was so much as bruised. Lysithea picked up a sword doubtfully. It’s soft. The blade was blunt and slightly squishy. The balance was off. 

Linhardt left his lying on the ground. “I hardly know the first thing about wielding a sword,” he said to Lysithea’s questioning glance. “Consider me the moral support.” 

Felix glowered in disgust at the poor balance but dropped into a dueling stance anyway. In his hands the practice sword seemed every bit as lethal as the real thing. Shame how the still-present cat ears detracted from the effect. 

“Shouldn’t you have a weapon as well?” Linhardt said, apparently more to himself than as a serious question. 

Flayn’s smile grew wider and even sweeter. Lysithea began to suspect that the sweetness of her smile directly corresponds to how vicious she’s about to be. 

“Given that our fight is three-against-one, I’ke elected to use magic to even the odds. Unless you’d care to help me out, Professor?” She nodded to where Byleth was still standing, mystified. 

Felix’s lunge started while Flayn was waiting for Byleth’s response. But his sword point passes through where Flayn was a second ago and he overbalanced, nearly falling forward onto his face. 

“Footwork,” Byleth said.

Felix snarled, and then turned toward the docks where Flayn has already reappeared. He charged forward; Lysithea followed, sword waving clumsily in the air. 

“I don’t know why they think running blindly is a viable plan,” she heard Linhardt say to the professor as he emphatically doesn’t move to help. “They’re making it far easier to target them both.” 

Unfortunately he’s right. As soon as Lysithea and Felix approach Flayn she giggled and raised her hand. Lysithea searched her memory for the words to a silence spell but Flayn casts Wind before she can utter the first syllables, aiming to push rather than wound. 

There was a moment, as Lysithea flew through the air, where she wasn’t sure what just happened. And then she hit the water with a splash. Her witches hat went flying, the bracing cold of the pond bit into her bones, and she looked up at Flayn standing on the edge of the docks, grinning in self-satisfaction. 

“You’re underestimating your opponent,” the professor called, unnecessarily. 

Felix surfaced next to Lysithea, spluttering, just as she wondered if she needs to help him back to the surface. His cat ears are still on his head, miraculously. Lysithea’s witch hat is long gone. 

“I’m going to kill Flayn,” he said with a serenity that’s much more disturbing than his usual anger. 

Flayn waved cheerily to them from her perch at the end of the docks. She raised her hands, holding a spell clearly meant to level them the second they moved toward her. 

“I can warp you to right behind her,” Lysithea said to Felix under her breath. “But you’ll only have the one chance.”

“One chance is all I need,” Felix hissed. Lysithea could remind him that he’s already screwed up two chances, but it can probably wait until they aren’t treading water in an icy pond. 

“On three, then.” Felix nodded and adjusted his grip on the sword he was still clinging to. 

“One, two, _ three _ -” Lysithea keeps her hands under the water as she moved through the gestures for warp, and by the time Flayn noticed it’s already too late. 

She laughed at Felix’s unholy grin as he appeared right behind Flayn, sword at the ready. Flayn was fast enough to turn around and loose the half-spell right in his face but Felix took the opening to trip her up even as he grimaced against the light spell’s searing brightness. Flayn tumbled to the ground, head and shoulders dangling over the edge of the dock.

“So? Do you yield?” Felix demanded as he held his sword at the ready in his right hand, and reached out as if to push Flayn off the docks with his left. 

“Yes, quite. I yield,” Flayn says. She laughed as Felix grudgingly helped her up. “That was quite the fight! But I believe we must all return to Mercedes in order for you to officially win.” 

Felix nodded. Lysithea starts]ed the slow swim back to the edge of the dock. It wasn’t far, but swimming was never one of her skills. At least Felix dragged her out of the water once she was within arms reach. 

They trooped up to the entrance hall together, Lysithea shivering from the chill breeze and cold water that’s soaked her clothes. Felix, annoyingly, seemed completely unaffected by his dip in the lake. Flayn walked willingly; Byleth and Linhardt tagged along behind them. 

“Mercedes!” Felix actually yelled as they enter the party. “We won your stupid game!” 

Mercedes appeared in front of them almost instantly, angelic smile firmly in place. “Oh! Is this true, Flayn?” 

“It is true! We had the most thrilling fight down at the pond. I thank you for letting me take part despite my brothers protests, Mercedes.” 

“Thank _ you _, Flayn. We needed a murderer who no one would suspect at first. You were the perfect choice. Now, who was the winning team?” 

“Felix and Linhardt helped me solve the mystery,” Lysiteha said, feeling much warmly inclined toward the whole exercise now that the glow of victory was settling into her.

“And, uh, the professor?” Mercedes looked questioningly over at Byleth, who still stood quietly behind them. 

“I was not part of this. And I’m still not entirely sure what’s going on,” Byleth said. 

“Oh dear. I did leave our plans for the party on your desk. since I never heard from you I assumed you approved them! You’re always so conscientious about your students, after all.” 

If Lysithea had ever seen the professor express a negative emotion - or much of any emotion, really - she would say that Byleth cringed. 

“…of course,” Byleth said. 

“Now, your prize,” Mercedes led the three of them back to the supply cupboard Annette’s body was found in. Shu rummaged around. “An entire box of my famous Halloween cookies, and more baked as often as you like for the next month!”

Lysithea gave an approving gasp and then looked into the box. They’re chocolate shortbreads with little frosted spiders on them. “Hey! These are the cookies Claude told me about! I _ knew _ he planned this!” 

“Did he? How awful of him,” Mercedes said. 

Linhardt grabbed a cookie. Felix glared at the box like it’s done him a personal disservice. “That’s it? The prize is sweets?” He scoffed. “This was more of a waste of time than I thought.”

“Honestly, I never expected that _ you’d _ participate, Felix, but I’m sure I can come up with something more to your tastes.” 

Felix scoffed, but he didn’t refuse. 

“Felix,” Byleth said. 

“What,” Felix said. 

“A reward. Your form in your battle with Flayn was unexceptional, but you used teamwork effectively. That can count as next week’s certification exam. You pass.”

“What? I mean… sure.” Felix seemed mollified. He even smiled, a little. 

“I suppose someone should tell Annette she can stop pretending to be a ghost,” Mercedes mused. “And perhaps I should let all of the other groups know that the winner has been determined.” 

“About that,” Linhardt said. “Are we truly the only ones back? I can accept that we were the first to win by a large margin, given our strategic use of warps and the intoxication of the rest of the student body, but it seems that someone else should have returned by now.” 

“Oh, well,” Mercedes said, completely unbothered. “The second group was Claude’s, and I did ask Annette to modify her script a bit, given that he seemed determined to bring one of his little schemes into my party.” 

“Wait, so where is he?” Lysithea demanded.

“I believe Annette’s clue would have led him to the stables, and a separate clue there would eventually lead him to Flayn. Technically he could still have won, but,” Mercedes shrugged. “It would have been much harder.” 

“Wait,” says Lysithea, “you said Claude brought a scheme into your game. What scheme?” 

“I imagine he’d be the best person to ask that,” Mercedes said. “I can hardly keep track of his plans.” 

“Thank you, Mercedes,” Lysithea said. “I believe I need to find Claude.” 

She turned, looking for her partners in mystery solving. Linhardt’s drifted back to a wall where he’s leaning, apparently half-asleep. Felix must finally have remembered his cat ears because he’s waving them around angrily while Sylvain laughs. 

Lysithea stepped to the door and looked out into the night. It’s fine. It’s just darkness, filled with spooky decorations and spooky costumes and a lot of friends. It’s fine, she told herself more firmly. The only ghost out there was Annette, who was not very good at being a spooky ghost. 

It’s with a determined deep breath that Lysithea stepped out into the grounds all by herself, in the dead of night on Halloween, and went to find Claude.

She didn’t expect Claude to be hard to find, but she did expect to have to put some effort into it. She didn’t expect him to be leaning against the door to the stables, still in his ridiculous deer outfit complete with stupidly impractical little hooves, waiting. 

“You - you schemer!” Lysithea snapped as soon as she got within hearing range. “You made sure that _ I’d _find Annette and completely embarrass myself!” 

“Awww, is that all you figured out? Come on, Lysithea, you’re smarter than that.” Claude winked, infuriatingly. 

“You provoked me until you were sure I’d come to your stupid party, you manipulated me into opening the cupboard she was in, and! You lied to me about _ cookies _ to do so!” Lysithea draws herself up, trying to substitute anger for height. “There is no excuse you could make that would be forgivable!” 

“Oh, well, that’s a shame.” Claude adjusted his deer hat; the weight of the antlers keeps tipping it over his eyes. “I’ll regret the loss of your friendship.” His delivery was unnaturally straight-faced. 

“Good. You’ll never get it back.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Claude sighed. “Hey, Lysithea, those cookies _ were _in the cupboard I pointed you at.”

“Along with an entire dead _ body _, Claude!” 

“And you did have fun at the party, right? Made some new friends?” 

“Friends is a stretch, but I suppose Felix and Linhardt are more tolerable than I originally thought.” She glared. “Where are you going with this?” 

“And,” Claude held up one of his absurd little hoof-hands, “you wandered off into the night, by yourself, on Halloween! You weren’t scared of any ghosts!” 

“I’ve never been scared of ghosts, that’s a ridiculous idea you came up with because you’re far too attached to treating me like a _ child _,” Lysithea lied. “The only ghost out here is Annette, and she is terrible at being scary.” 

Claude didn’t argue with that, at least. “Well?” He said expectantly. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” 

“For _ what _? Being a meddler who doesn't know how to leave other people alone?” 

“See, from what you said, it sounds like you’ve had the best Halloween of your life thanks to my _ meddling _.” Claude stretched his arms out triumphantly. “Come on, don’t I deserve a little credit?” 

“I don’t give credit to meddlers,” Lysithea informed him. “However, after reflection, I suppose I won’t revoke my friendship.” 

Claude grinned like it’s the greatest prize in the world. “I knew you’d see reason. Hey, I can have some of those cookies, right?” 

“Absolutely not!” Regardless of whether Claude’s meddling was kind-hearted, useful, or justified - none of which Lysithea is entirely convinced on anyway - the cookies were hers and hers alone.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be 2500 words at most. It was supposed to be short. It was supposed to posted on Halloween. There's a point halfway through where the descriptions of things just vanish because it was getting so fucking long. 
> 
> I wanted to practice writing scenes with several characters and lots of moving parts, I like Halloween, and I am blatantly biased toward my favorite characters. Please enjoy the product of all of that. 
> 
> This is nominally in the same continuity as my other three houses fic "the same place where you left me standing", so if you're reading that you can enjoy the knowledge that Felix was once thrown into a pond while wearing cat ears. You're welcome.


End file.
